Yorkville enquirer. [volume] (Yorkville, S.C.) 1855-2006, 1887-03-16

WOIlau ilESG 1911 le' oop ~
must 60 for once"
He laughs in so suppressed fashion
that she hardly knows what the laughter
is like; but that 1t Is wild and reckless,
and decidedly mirthful, is apparent to
her. 1t did not declare itself to her then,
but afterward it occurred to her that his
whole air was hardly in accord with the
fustian.
~ shall not STIR" she says valorously.-
'Then I regret to say that must assist
you," returns he, advancing toward her
slowly.
This settles it, of course. Her high born
courage fades, evaporates. Her spirit
dies within her. With both hands she
cifngs to the bedclothes. .....
"No, no!' she gasps. II will get up
only-only''-
"Go? That, of course" says the man
as agreeable as he can in his squeaky
tones. IL shall 60 to the next room, foI
precisely five minutes by my-no, by
the way-your watch. Don't, let me adj
wise you, let it be longer"
He strides toward the door by which
he has entered, and then suddenly stops
short. So does her heart. Once again
she had dwclled upon. the hope Of what
q ringing of the bell might bring forth;
but, as if the mysterious being had read
her inmost soul, he now turns to her.
by the bye" he says, "to ring your
bell may suggest itself to you. You
might ring a thousand bells in this house,
verify believe, without result; but still
decline to take the chance. After all,
think shall stay here, in this remote
corner. while you put on your dressing
gown"
"Oh, non'
The words break from Millicent des-
peratcly.
"No? You would prefer not? Butt
II swear TO you I will not ring the
bell" declares she wildly. II don't know
why you wish me to rise; but yet give
YOU my word will not touch the bell
if you will only 80 into that next room
and give INC the five minutes you have
promised"
"a woman's oath is not worth half
penny, to say nothing of her word," says
the stranger pleasantly. "But still, 1
will grant your request with just this last
word. If you play me false, If you seek
to summon did in any way, shalp'-
drawing q revolver from his pocket and
handling it tcIderly-"blow your brains
outr'
The words fall from him in whisper
-dclicatcly-so mildly, indeed, that no
suspicion of violence should rest with
them. Yet Milliccnt, cs tho door closes
behind him, shudders vehemently, and
her teeth chatter as though she has been
stricken with . sudden chill.
With trembling haste she springs from
her bed, hurries on her clothes, and hav-
ing covered herself finally with soft
warm dressing gown, stands shivering
with expectation upon the carpet. She
must have got through her task with far
greater speed than she had imagined-in
three minutes, instead OF the allotted
five, as q good while elapses from the
time cho had finished her hurried dress
ing to the dreaded moment when again
her foe appears before her.
"You are paragon, he says. "Per-
NIT me to congratulate you. I said five
minutes-I gave you seven; it appears
three would have been sufficient. But
now to business. Where are those sap
phire and diamond ornaments that have
made you the envy of all beholders this
season, and added a faint luster to the
brilliancy of your charms3'
Yes-certainly his manners are not in
keeping with his clothes!
"My sapphires!' gasps she feebly.
"And diamonds! Do not detract from
their value. Comep'-sharply-'tlet US
have no nonsense. know you keep them
in this room or the one beyond; but
where? I assure you'll beg you to believe
that I would not for worlds have reused
you from your happy dreams had not
my failure to discover the jewels COM
PEELED me to apply to you for assistance.
"My uncle always keeps them" begins
the girl, telling her lie without a regret
in the fond but vain hope that it may
save her sapphires. All at once the
suave manner of the man disappears, and
On angry oath escapes him.
"Look here, girl" he says roughly,
though his voice is fine and squeaky as
ever, "no trifling! know these stones
to be in your keeping, and I shall have
them tonight or''-
He pauses, draws the revolver again
from his pocket, and significantly clicks
it. "Where are the sapphiresF'
"Over here" says Millicent, now fairly
cowed. She moves mechanically toward
the wall opposite, and raising her hand,
touches a spring that is evidently con-
nected with some secret press in the
wall-a press concealed by the papering.
A small door flies open, and not hav-
ing the courage to actually give him her
treasures Gewels are always dear to O
woman, be she good or bad), she points
family to the disclosed cupboard.
The man in fustian lifts his lantern,
peers curiously into the recess, and with
q low cry of triumph seiZes upon the
different cases that lie side by side upon
the wooden shelf. Cool, even in the mo-
ment of victory, he opens the cases de-
liberately one by one, to make sure of the
contents. Yes, they all lie there-the
beautiful glittering things, for which
girl is crying, and for which man Is
bartering his souls
Lifting his head, after sharp but hur-
ried examination of the stones that up
parcntly satisfies him, he sees that Milli-
cent too, is gazing earnestly ut the
pretty baubles once hers, so soon to be
hers no longer; and that Us she gazes, her
soft eys are full of tears.
"Seems cruel, eh"' he says. "Well,
that you may say in the future I was not
ungenerous, will leave you this out of
your treasures for which you are so ready
to shed your tears. I wonder if they are
dearer to you than"-- He pauses ab-
ruptly, as one might who has been about
to say something better left unsaid.
ethan your lover" lie winds up with
that low, suppressed laugh again, that
certainly does not belong to him, and
thrusts into her unwilling hands small
tering with sapphires and diamonds.
"Think it is gift from the man you
will marry" he says lightly, in that dis
agreeable voice of his. "And now, fol-
low me-or rather, 60 before me-to the
door,"
1t is the door leading to the corridor
without to which he points. Millicent,
still rs one in dream, obeys him and
goes toward it. He opens it carefully,
and backing outward on to the corridor,
always with his eyes on her, comes there
to standstill.
&C bid good night, madame" he says
mockingly. And then (shc can remem
Der little about it afterward, so swift it
waS) something was flung over her face,
and pressed there; there was moments
struggles moment that to her was an
eternity ,and then strange dullness;
the sound of door hastily closcd the
echoing of departing footsteps; sense
of suffocation, and afterward ceasing
from all knowledge, and deadly blank.
CHAPTER TX.
1t is eight o'clock on the ensuing morn